


The Beekeeper's Guests

by randomscientist



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 00:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomscientist/pseuds/randomscientist
Summary: He does not recall details of the encounter, but deduces that he must have invited them inside after a brief conversation, seeing that it is their first visit to the Downs.





	The Beekeeper's Guests

What it’s once again evoking within him, he struggles to discern.

 

Memories? Could these be fragments from a distant past?

That near-asphyxiating hollowness amidst carols and cheer;

That quiet joy in Auld Lang Syne as snow fell upon the street outside.

Travels – rail, water, and air;

Sunny afternoons where he wasn’t alone.

Long, dark nights where he was.

Rings of a phone call, or were there more?

 

A woman.

..The Woman.

_Who is she?_

He..cannot see her face through this fog. He tries.

And fails. He always does.

Something in him hurts.

 

The beekeeper places the old phone back into its drawer.

Its. Because that’s where he seems to have always kept it.

There was probably a good reason why.

 

* * *

 

“Do you need some help with the tea, Mr Holmes?” Asks the younger of the two people sat on his sofa as he returns.

Ah. So that’s what he left the room for.

 

He ends up spending a pleasant afternoon in their company. The young man was clearly a bright one – exceptionally so, even by his standards – and the mother an elegant, sophisticated lady. He does not recall details of the encounter, but deduces that he must have invited them inside after a brief conversation, seeing that it is their first visit to the Downs.

 

* * *

 

He opens the door to a well-dressed lad in his twenties. No parcel, clipboard, brochures, or any corporate logo in sight. A guest, then.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes. I hope your offer from the other day still stands?”

...

 

“Honey.” He gestures towards the table.

His guest looks up.

Sherlock is certain he saw those blue eyes sparkle before the boy noticed the small jar behind his plate of toast and fruit.

 

* * *

 

Politely he waits as the lady opposite reaches into her purse and shows him the item in question.

In the photograph is his guest herself – in her more youthful years, and yet with the same mesmerising eyes. She is holding a small boy who has her smile, and beside them, looking at the mother and son with all the adoration in the world, is–

He freezes.

 

“It doesn’t have to always be this way, you know. Everything would’ve been easier if you hadn’t been too proud to keep a diary. But then, I suppose neither of us is ever inclined towards the easy – how dull, isn’t it?”

“I..”

Irene Adler takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> (I hope this all makes sense?)


End file.
